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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163472">and to all a good night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuuuliet/pseuds/shuuuliet'>shuuuliet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the most wonderful time of the year (merry psychmas) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Psych (TV 2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Decorating, F/M, Shules, a charlie brown christmas, and so am i (with them), and so is jules, ok no more tags i'm sorry, ok one more, pre-relationship shules, set after Episode: s04e13 Death is in the Air, shawn and jules are not on a date except for the fact that they both want to be, shawn is in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:40:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163472</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuuuliet/pseuds/shuuuliet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Juliet is too busy to go to Miami for Christmas—too busy to think about Christmas at all, in fact—Shawn decides maybe he’ll just bring the holiday to her.</p><p>Set during Season 4, post "Death is in the Air".  </p><p>Written for "12 Days of Psychmas" Days 5&amp;6, prompts: "lights" and "movies", with a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to Day 4: "candy canes".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henry Spencer &amp; Shawn Spencer, Henry Spencer/Madeleine Spencer, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the most wonderful time of the year (merry psychmas) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>12 Days of Psychmas 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and to all a good night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Merry Psychmas again, ladies and gents! Tonight covers a couple of prompts, because they seemed to fit well into the ~mood~ of this piece. Also I'm not sure why I have a headcanon about Jules really liking the holiday Charlie Brown movies, but...I do. </p><p>As usual, Psych isn’t mine, and neither is “The Night Before Christmas”, from which I took this title.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You know actual icicles can kill you?” Gus asks cheerfully, as he helps Shawn hang up the strands of white icicle lights.</p><p>“Buddy, you have got to work on your definition of fun facts,” Shawn responds. “The last thing I want Jules thinking about when she sees these is death.” He hangs the last bit of the strand of lights over the command hook on the wall, stepping down from the stepladder.</p><p>He and Gus stand and look around the room for a minute, taking it in. The white icicle lights border all four walls of Juliet’s living room, casting it in a soft glow. In one corner, he’d placed an inflatable palm tree, which he and Gus had decorated with garland and candy canes. Gus wouldn’t let him put sand around the base—to represent the beaches of Miami, of course—telling him that Juliet was probably much less likely to appreciate his thoughtfulness if he got sand all over her house, but they’d found am empty litter box in Juliet’s laundry room, which Shawn had dutifully scooped the sand into, creating the world’s smallest island.</p><p>In another corner was an <em>actual</em> Christmas tree, which Shawn had been dismayed to discover that Juliet had never actually acquired this year, due to how busy the department had been. That had been what made Shawn think of this idea, in fact—when he’d bumped into Juliet at the station two days ago, she’d looked exhausted and overworked, confiding in him disappointedly that she wasn’t going to make it home to Miami for Christmas this year, like she’d planned, and that she hadn’t even had time to <em>think</em> about Christmas, with the string of homicides that had happened since Thanksgiving, and a jailbreak earlier in the week that they were still trying to process paperwork on, despite catching the perpetrators. Then, this morning, when he’d stopped by the station, she’d mentioned she was working late again, hoping that would allow her to take Christmas Day off.</p><p>All day since then, Shawn had been prepping, thankful that he knew where Juliet kept the spare key to her apartment. (He never snuck into her place the way he did Lassie’s—it felt too invasive, too intimate, and besides, he only snuck into Lassie’s place to mess with him, or if they were out of snacks at the Psych office—but this felt like an emergency, like a special exception to the rule. Or, at least, he hoped it was.)</p><p>“It looks good in here,” Gus observes. “Juliet will be impressed.”</p><p>“You don’t think the pretzel stick and marshmallow O’Hara family is overkill?” Shawn asks, going over to the coffee table, where the figurines he made are lined up neatly.</p><p>“Only because you made seventeen of them,” Gus answers reassuringly.</p><p>“Well, Jules has never actually said exactly how many brothers she has,” Shawn says defensively. “But it’s gotta be less than seventeen, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Fewer than,” Gus corrects. “And yes, I’d say the odds of Juliet not having seventeen brothers are pretty good.”</p><p>Shawn shrugs, then hesitates, his voice coming out a little too hopeful. “She’ll like all this, won’t she?”</p><p>“Oh, she’ll definitely like it,” Gus says, “But I don’t know, Shawn, isn’t it a little…romantic?”</p><p>Shawn shakes his head. “It’s not a date,” he says. “Jules knows we’re not there yet. I mean, after the hospital and everything, and Abigail’s coming back in a couple months, and I’m supposed to pick her up…I’m not—it’s not the time for me and Jules. Jules and I are just friends right now, we said so in Canada.”</p><p>“You said so while on a date that was meant for Abigail in Canada, which I wouldn’t even go on because it was too romantic,” Gus points out.</p><p>Shawn furrows his brow. “Seems irreverent.”</p><p>Now Gus frowns. “You mean irrelevant?”</p><p>Shawn shrugs. “I’ve heard it--.”</p><p>“No, you haven’t,” Gus interrupts, “and stop trying to change the subject. All I’m saying is, it’s kind of a lot for you to be doing for Juliet considering you’re not dating her.” He pauses, still frowning. “Wait, you’re not secretly dating her, are you?”</p><p>“Gus, have I ever kept secrets from you?”</p><p>“Yes!” Gus responds emphatically. “The entire time you were away from Santa Barbara, plus the aforementioned trip in Canada, not to mention every time a bunch of expensive snacks appear at the Psych office, and there are no new charges on any of my cards…”</p><p>“Gus,” Shawn gives him a look. “It’s not a secret where <em>those</em> come from. Even Lassie could do the detective work on that one, you’re better than that.”</p><p>Gus shakes his head. “I’m just saying, Shawn, you better figure out what you want here.”</p><p>Shawn nods. “I know,” he says softly.</p><p>/\/\/\/\/\</p><p>
  <em>Earlier</em>
</p><p>“Daaaaaaaad?” Shawn walks into his dad’s house, unsure as always whether he hopes his dad is home or not.</p><p>“Shawn, this house is not that big. You don’t need to yell every time you come in here,” Henry says, appearing from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel.</p><p>“Dad, you got any extra Christmas lights?”</p><p>“What do you need Christmas lights for?” Henry asks. “It’s Christmas Eve, hasn’t the time for decorating kind of passed?”</p><p>“I’ve got plans tonight,” Shawn says, “and they require lights of the festive variety.”</p><p>Henry gives Shawn a suspicious look. “Plans with who?”</p><p>“You don’t know her—uh, them.” Shawn says, wincing, knowing his father isn’t going to let this one go that easily.</p><p>Henry frowns, thinking it over. “So, it’s a date, huh? And on Christmas Eve, that’s a big deal.”</p><p>“Dad, I don’t have to tell you who I’m seeing every time I leave this house,” Shawn says, dodging the question. “I’m not 27 anymore.”</p><p>“You do when you’re asking for my help,” his dad points out.</p><p>Shawn shakes his head. “Fine, forget I asked. And it’s not a date, by the way, since you’re so interested.”</p><p>Henry raises his eyebrows. “Not a date, huh? Hmmm.” He looks at Shawn, a long look of appraisal that Shawn has endured a million times over the course of his life, and yet is never quite used to. He moves towards the garage. “The lights are out here,” he says.</p><p>Shawn begrudgingly follows. He needs the lights if he’s going to make this special for Jules. But he knows his dad well enough to know that there are more questions coming.</p><p>Sure enough, his dad glances back at him for a second. “It’s Juliet, isn’t it?”</p><p>Shawn shakes his head, not willing to give in this easily, but knowing full well that the heat in his cheeks will give him away. “I don’t know this ‘Juliet’ to whom you’re referring.”</p><p>Henry gives Shawn a long look again, understanding seeming to click in his eyes. “So,” he asks casually, after looking knowingly at Shawn for so long that Shawn starts to squirm, “how long have you been in love with her?”</p><p>“What? I’m not—crazy old man!” Shawn sputters.</p><p>“Shawn.”</p><p>Shawn hangs his head. “A while,” he mutters.</p><p>“You want my advice, kid?”</p><p>“When has the answer to that question <em>ever</em> been yes?”</p><p>Henry smiles. “When has that ever stopped me?”</p><p>“Fair.” Shawn allows, nodding as he considers. “So, what’ve you got for me this time, old man?”</p><p>“Look,” his dad says, “you know, things with your mother and I didn’t work out--,”</p><p>“Oh man, I don’t want to hear <em>this</em>,” Shawn says, sighing.</p><p>“Shawn, listen. It’s important. Your mother—I’ve wondered every day if I could have just changed something, if I could have just done one thing differently, maybe she would have stayed.”</p><p>“Dad, I don’t think--.”</p><p>“No, wait, Shawn, I’m not done,” he says, putting his hand up. “I stopped, Shawn. I stopped telling her that I loved her. I got busy, she got busy, we let ourselves move in different directions and we <em>never moved back</em>.”</p><p>Henry’s eyes looked glassy, and Shawn wondered for a moment if he’d ever said any of this out loud before. He didn’t have this kind of relationship with his dad, not usually, so if his dad was saying all <em>this</em>, he must really need to get it off his chest.</p><p>“My point is, Shawn, you can’t wait on things like this,” he says. “You and Juliet move too far away from each other, wait too long, you may never circle back.”</p><p>/\/\/\/\/\</p><p>
  <em>Now</em>
</p><p>After Gus leaves to see his parents, Shawn paces the long hallway between Juliet’s front door and her living room. He always gets antsy when he’s nervous, and the pacing helps. Juliet should be here soon, and he hopes he doesn’t startle her. He hopes she likes it, hopes she <em>understands</em>, the way she’d seemed to understand him ever since that day in the hospital when he’d half-admitted how he felt.</p><p>At last, the door opens—Shawn had left it unlocked--and Shawn steps forward. Juliet hears his footsteps coming, and quick as lightning, she’s pulled out her service weapon, demanding, “Who’s there?”</p><p>“Hey, hey, Jules, it’s just me,” Shawn says, his hands up, as he steps into her eyeline.</p><p>Juliet lowers her gun. “Shawn, you scared me! I never leave my door unlocked, so I knew something was up. Do you not know better than to break into a cop’s house?”</p><p>“In my defense,” Shawn says, “I’ve broken into both my dad’s place and Lassie’s several times over the last week, and not once have I been caught.”</p><p>Juliet frowns, but her lips quirk as though she’s about to laugh. “Not the strongest defense. But it’s Christmas Eve, Shawn, and it’s late, what are you doing here?” She disarms her service weapon, putting it back in her purse and taking off her jacket as she heads towards him.</p><p>“I’ll show you,” he says. “But you have to close your eyes. Oh, and take off your shoes.”</p><p>Juliet frowns, pausing. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my line of work,” she says. “The shoe thing is nothing weird, right?”</p><p>Shawn laughs. “What? No! Just trust me.”</p><p>She does, taking off her heels and dumping them in the hallway next to her purse and jacket—they were killing her anyway—and she lets him take her hand, closing her eyes.</p><p>“I’ll tell you when to step up,” he says, as he leads her into the living room. She nods, distracted by the feel of his hand in hers.</p><p>“Okay,” Shawn says, after leading her to the corner of the room where the palm tree stands, wondering if doing so constitutes a long walk on the beach. “Step up.”</p><p>Juliet does, confused by the feel of sand against her feet—what has Shawn <em>done</em> to her living room?</p><p>“Now open,” he instructs, releasing her hand.</p><p>“I’m in a litter box,” she says, confused, as she looks down.</p><p>Shawn laughs. “You’re in Miami.”</p><p>Juliet looks up, noticing all at once the inflatable palm tree in front of her, the lights on all the walls, the Christmas tree, and suddenly it all clicks. “Shawn, you—you did this? For me?”</p><p>He doesn’t meet her eyes, sudden shyness overtaking him. “I wanted you to feel at home for Christmas.”</p><p>She steps out of the litter box, throwing her arms around him. “Shawn,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “Thank you.”</p><p>“And look, your family’s here!” Shawn says, gesturing to the table, where he has laid out all of the pretzel stick people.</p><p>“Shawn,” Juliet says, her voice on the verge of laughter, “these are pretzel sticks and marshmallows.”</p><p>“And chocolate chip eyes,” Shawn adds.</p><p>She nods. “And chocolate chip eyes. And there are…” she pauses, counting. “Seventeen of them!” She pauses again, this time unable to keep from smiling. “How many brothers did you think I had?”</p><p>“No more than seventeen,” Shawn says confidently.</p><p>She laughs. “Well, you’re not wrong.”</p><p>“And,” he says, holding up a DVD, “I brought <em>A Charlie Brown Christmas</em>!”</p><p>Juliet smiles. “You remembered that’s my favorite!”</p><p>“It’s even better than <em>The Great Pumpkin</em>,” he says.</p><p>She smiles. “Yeah, didn’t manage to catch too much of that one this year.”</p><p>She looks up to the lights around the room, and Shawn smiles, watching her, admiring the way her eyes glow as she takes in the work he and Gus have done.</p><p>After they admire the tree, and Shawn devours at least nine of Juliet’s “siblings”, they collapse on the couch, Juliet turning on the DVD player.</p><p>It’s not more than a few minutes into the movie—well before the true meaning of Christmas is announced—when Juliet’s eyelids begin to grow heavy. Part of it is the overtime she’s been working, of course, but part of it, she knows, is being here with Shawn, being warm and cozy with him, in the magic he’s created in her living room.</p><p>She doesn’t know quite where they stand, but this is surely something more than friendship. They’re not dating, but they’re different ever since that day in the hospital when she thought she was about to die, when she’d thrown her arms around him, and then he’d started to say something.</p><p>He hadn’t quite gotten it out, but Juliet thinks she knows what he was going to say. It was serious—probably more serious than Shawn was ready for—but the fact that he hadn’t been able to follow through didn’t mean what he’d started to say wasn’t genuine. It just means that Shawn, as always, does things on his own time.</p><p>And he might not be ready, but she is. She has been for months—well, years, probably, if she’s being honest with herself—and tonight, with what he’s done for her, she feels more hope for them than she’s felt since that night she’d approached him after he’d caught Mr. Yang. It’s not just Christmas magic that’s reminding her that she loves him—that she started falling in love with him long ago, and it’s just growing deeper all the time--after all. It’s just <em>him</em>.</p><p>It’s easy, then, to lean over to him, press her lips to his cheek, watching his eyes close as he takes it in, the stubble on his cheek against her lips feeling like home, feeling the way Christmas morning used to feel back when everything really <em>was</em> magic. It’s easy to whisper <em>thank you </em>to him, wishing she had words that better conveyed how much his care and surprise for her means to her.</p><p>And it’s easy to let herself stay there, leaning against him, until her eyes close and she’s falling asleep, warm and content, her head falling against his chest as she rests, his arms rising automatically to wrap around her, just as she’s imagined so many times over the last few years.</p><p>On the edge between sleep and awake, she feels his arms tighten around her, feels his lips brush her forehead, and the last thought she has before she succumbs to sleep is <em>This is how Christmas should be</em>.</p><p><em>This</em>, Shawn thinks, <em>is how Christmas should be</em>. Him and Jules, curled up on her couch, her letting him hold her as she sleeps at last, Christmas lights twinkling all around them, Charlie Brown playing in the background, and overwhelmingly, a feeling of rightness, contentment.</p><p>As his eyes drift closed, the happiest he’s been on Christmas Eve since the year before he closed the Santa Claus investigation, his dad’s words cycle through his mind again. “You and Juliet wait too long, you may never circle back.”</p><p>He pulls her closer to him, her head resting on his chest beneath his chin. <em>No</em>, he thinks. <em>No, Jules and I will always circle back to each other.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you’re alarmed that this is my second fic involving Shules falling asleep to Charlie Brown in the background, same, so don’t @ me. I promise I have other ideas every once in awhile.</p><p>Anyway, I hope very much that you enjoyed this! I’m not sure how many more Psychmas prompts I’ll work on, but I had a lot of fun with these! As always, I’d love to know any thoughts you have! Merry Psychmas!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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